Arianna wiped off the table and placed the heap of napkins beside her plate. “You were saying?”
“Bears over Ravens.”
She’d let that one slide. But not the next. Next time, she’d ra-ra the Ravens. She would even fashion the napkins into wet pompoms and cheer. “And what else?”
“Not much else to say.”
“Megan will ask me if you prefer cats or dogs, what hobbies you have, and your favourite music. You already mentioned your favourite food, so that’s covered.”
“She quizzes you on your dates?”
“She’s an auditor. She wants to make sure the details are accurate.”
“Ah.” A rumbling laugh escaped him. “Dogs. Beer league hockey. House music.”
“You go clubbing?”
“Not really, but I like a high tempo to work and run to.”
“I work in the weeds, in the details, and I need something to bring me out. Like jazz with its irregular beats or something chill to do yoga or Pilates.”
“I get it. Just check out entirely from the day job.”
He gets it. I’ll stick around a while longer.
One of her exes was a workaholic. Worked full time and had three side hustles. He always frowned and made excuses to avoid sleeping in or chilling for an afternoon together.
“There’s a good jazz club near South and Main,” he said.
“I know it. I love live music. A weekend a year, the Jazz in the Streets committee closes off that part of the street and invites musicians to perform outside. I go every year. Even when it rains, and I have to go alone, I go.”
“I heard that was a good event.”
“The best.”
“What’s your algorithm like?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What pops up on your social media feed?”
“Take a guess.”
He shifted in his seat, leaning his arm against the armrest. Fine lines arced around the corners of his mouth in a tight smile that hinted at both curiosity and interest. “You like to chill.”
She nodded.
“Probably some meditations, maybe some animal pictures, or funny blooper videos on Instagram or TikTok. Something with time-saving life hacks to give you more downtime. Some craft or book reviews.”
So close. Some makeup tutorials. Lots of pictures of rabbits and fish. “Crocheting and cross-stitching.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I get to take out the frustrations of the day by making things I sell at farmers’ markets.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“A few years now,” she said.
“Do you sell a lot?”
“Just enough to buy more supplies to keep at it.”
“Do you have any pictures of your work?”
Her heart fluttered. A guy who’s interested in seeing my art. She scrolled through pictures on her phone and showed him her flower series. “I’ve been thinking of doing some special occasions. Weddings. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Cross-stitch their names into napkins, pillowcases, that sort of thing.” She put her phone down. “What’s your algorithm like?”
“Take a guess.”
“Recipes and cooking videos. Restaurant reviews. Hockey highlights.”
“Very close. You missed dog videos, comedy acts, and fishing with your hands.”
“With your hands?”
“Yeah. Some people stand in the shallows and catch fish with their hands.”
“Really? You fish with your hands?”
He shook his head. “Never tried it. Never even fished with a fishing pole. But there’s something about holding yourself still enough and having fast enough reflexes to catch fish with your hands.”
“Think you’ll ever try it?”
“Not really a camping type. But it’s something to watch.”
“How about comedians? Who do you like?”
“Dave Chappelle, John Mulaney, Chad Thornsberry.”
I do too. “Ah. Witty and observational humour.”
“Yeah. Something we can all relate to.”
“Do you go to comedy clubs?”
“Thursday nights, at least once a month. They have an open mic night.”
“You do stand-up?”
“I think about doing stand-up.” He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip. “But what if I bomb?”
Arianna shrugged. “Practise with your friends first. They’ll tell you if it works.”
He slumped against the back of his chair. “I’m always looking for new content. It takes a long time to work out a routine.”
“Do you have any material?” she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Come on. Try some on me. I won’t judge.”